Harry Potter and the Triwizard Tournament
by apprenticewriter2108
Summary: A.U. Fourth Year. Starts after Halloween. What if Hermione had a more active role in helping Harry in the Tournament? Rated T
1. Chapter 1

**A.N:** Hello there, people! Okay, so this is my first multi-chapter story (I think my other ones could have been too, but whatever), and I'll try to update once a week. This story follows cannon until the champions are chosen, then it turns into a sort of AU. Well, that's it really. Hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Harry Potter, or its characters. Only in my dreams.

**Harry Potter and the Triwizard Tournament **

**Chapter One **

The Gryffindor's Fourth Year dormitory, on the boys' side, was quiet, but for the murmuring and snores from its sleeping occupants. Sunlight peaked out from the red curtains decorating the dorm, brightening the otherwise dark room. Red and gold lined the walls and beds, yet the vibrant colors had a soft, relaxing feel to them. Poster beds were displayed in a circle around the room, each with a bedside table and a trunk to the side. And in one of these beds lay a boy with a famous, lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Harry Potter slowly opened his emerald eyes. He blindly reached for his glasses in his bedside table as he stretched, letting out a yawn. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses. He dropped his hands and swung his feet off the bed, getting up and grabbing some of his clothes, heading towards the bathroom. He sighed as his thoughts once again drifted to the day before.

It had been Halloween. Harry had never been partial to the holiday. Before, because when with the Dursleys he was not allowed to celebrate it, and after his First Year because he discovered it was the day his parents had been murdered. And it seemed the holiday didn't like him either, as strange things always happened to him in Halloween. Like one happened the night before.

The delegations of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, magic schools from Bulgaria and France respectively, had arrived days earlier for a special event that Professor Dumbledore announced would be held in Hogwarts. The Triwizard Tournament, a millenia old competition between the three schools that had been reinstated after several decades. After the Halloween feast, there'd be the selection of the three champions who would represent their schools. Harry remembered that well.

He had been excited, as underage students weren't allowed to compete and he had thought himself safe from any kind of misadventure that could happen to him. And of course, because it was bound to be interesting. Three daring, challenging tasks that would decide the better wizard, or witch. But his bad luck had acted once again. For reasons and methods unknown, after the champions had been selected, Harry's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. He remembered the confusion, the fear, and the sheer panic that had gripped him after the Headmaster had called out for him. The Great Hall had suddenly gone quiet. _It couldn't be_, he had thought, _it's impossible. _But as Dumbledore called to him louder, a hint of anger in his voice, Harry had shakily risen to his feet. He had walked, his face chalk white, around the Head table, completely oblivious to the stares and glares directed at him.

He hadn't wanted to compete, and he tried to tell everyone else that. He hadn't put his name in that _bloody_ Goblet. But he had been accused of lying, of cheating. _Nobody _had believed him. Not even his _best mate_ Ron, Harry thought bitterly.

_How can there even be a __**fourth**__ champion in a competition for __**three**__ wizards? _He remembered trying to argue his way out, but his efforts were in vain, much to the chagrin of everyone. His name coming out forced him into a binding magical contract, and he had to compete. _How brilliant_.

He looked up at his reflexion in the bathroom mirror. He had dark bags under his eyes. He hadn't been able to get much sleep, as he had pondered his situation for hours on end. He sighed, and already dressed, he walked down the stairs to the common room. He found Hermione there.

She was reading a book, perched on the couch facing the fireplace. She was already dressed in her uniform and had her book bag next to her. She looked up when he came into the room. He froze.

- Harry! – She started, getting up and walking towards him – How are you?

- _Just fine_. Aren't you going to ask me how I put my name in the Goblet? – He bit at her.

He felt bad as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Hermione looked as if she'd just been slapped. Then her face turned angry.

- _What_?! No! You said you didn't do it and I believe you! Merlin, we've been friends for how long and _that's _how you think of me?!

- No! Look, Hermione, I'm sorry, it's just... Nobody believes me, not even Ron, and I just... I'm sorry. – He looked down ashamed.

- Oh, Harry... It's okay... – She sighed – Ron will come around, you'll see.

She layed a hand on his shoulder, her face full of sympathy. He looked up at her.

- Thanks, Hermione. – She squeezed his shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

- Come down to breakfast with me? – He nodded.

They left the Gryffindor Tower together. The red and gold was replaced by the dull gray of the castle's walls. They occasionally returned the greetings from some of the talking portraits lining the walls. They waited for the staircase to come to them and they chatted their way to the Great Hall. They passed some students on the way. The other residents of the castle glanced at Harry now and then, some with anger in their eyes, and whispered not so quietly to each other.

- Do you know how he did it?

- It doesn't matter. He cheated!

- Cedric is the rightful champion!

- He just couldn't stay away from the spotlight, now could he?

Harry dropped his gaze to the floor and clenched his fists. _He didn't do it! Why did no one believe him?! _He turned his head when he felt something touching his hand. Hermione had reached out and grabbed it. She gave him a small sad smile as she tugged his hand until he unclenched his fists. She laced their fingers.

- Just ignore them, Harry.

They walked through the doors of the Great Hall and every head turned to look at them. Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly. They took their usual seat at the Gryffindor table. There were few people there, as in the other House tables. Harry helped himself to a plate and ate in silence.

- Harry. – He looked up at her as she spoke – I was thinking...

- About what?

- Well, the Triwizard Tournament is a very dangerous competition, and you're against more experienced champions...

- Gee, thanks Hermione. – She glared.

- Harry. They're seventh years. Of course they're more experienced. They know more spells. They're better.

- _And your point is? _

- You should train. Prepare. You need to survive this, Harry.

- I know. – He sighed – Will you help me?

- Of course. Do you need to ask? – She rolled her eyes, exasperated.

Harry smiled.

- I'm gonna have to do some research in the library... – Hermione started.

- When aren't you researching in the library?

She glared playfully.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N:** Hello again! It's me. Just thought I'd stop by and let you guys know I'm really excited about your reaction to this history! Really, it's almost my first fanfiction and I never expected a response like that. So, thank you, you made me very happy. Now, what you have waited for, the second chapter. Enjoy!

** Disclaimer:** No, I do not own Harry Potter or its characters.

**Chapter Two **

After both were finished, Harry and Hermione got up to head to their classes. As they pushed open the big double doors, the Boy–Who-Lived and his muggleborn best friend continued their conversation. Harry had considered, if only for a moment, the idea that he could just improvise as he had done in all his earlier adventures. But he didn't really want to do that. In all his adventures, everything had happened in a rush and he never thought things through. He ran in instinctively, only thinking about his goal. And all those times, he felt the panic, the doubt. _How the bloody hell was he supposed to do it? He had no idea what to do! He was going to get himself killed!_

He couldn't just walk into stuff like that again. One day, his luck would end and he would have to face things by himself. He knew that. He knew he needed to know how to survive. So, he'd learn to take care of himself. And he had to have a game plan.

They'd already established he was going to train_. But how would that go? What kind of training would he do? Where would he do it? When would he do it? _He turned to look at Hermione as she rambled about schedules and planning.

His book-loving friend had grown since First Year. She stood just a few inches shorter than him, as she walked beside him. Her once bushy hair, he noticed, was slowly turning wavy over the years. Her caramel-colored locks fell to her back, just past her shoulders, and they bounced a little with every step she took. She fiddled with her red and gold tie as she talked, loosing it a little, then letting it fall back to her perfectly buttoned white shirt. Her black robes brushed her knee-length gray skirt as she walked. Harry noticed for the first time his friend had long, slightly tanned legs. _Really nice legs_. He blushed at the thought and turned his head away quickly. _Why is he thinking about Hermione like that? She is just a friend! He didn't like her like that! Or did he? _

- Harry? Are you listening to me?

He forced himself to look back at her face, hoping his blush wasn't noticeable. Hermione was looking at him, her chocolate-brown eyes reprimanding him even as they showed a bit of concern. Her eyebrows were scrunched up in a frown and her slightly heart-shaped face was tilted to the side. Harry caught himself looking at her pink, pursued lips and he wondered if they were as soft as they looked. _Wait, what? _He quickly shifted his gaze to the floor, blushing once again.

- Yeah, Hermione, you were talking about... Um... Making plans?

- Yes... – She said, a bit of confusion in her voice. – I asked you if you knew a place you could train in, where you wouldn't get caught by Filch, or the professors...

- Or Peeves.

- Yeah. Do you know anywhere?

- No. But I could look it up in the Marauder's Map. I could use my dad's cloak to sneak out at night and find a place.

- Harry!

- What? Do you have a better idea? I can't do it during the day, because we have classes, so unless you still have your Time Turner, it's the only way.

She sighed, but nodded. She turned the corridor, only to bump into someone. Harry managed to get her before she fell back. He looked up, ready to admonish the newcomer, only to freeze. Standing there, looking at them, was none other than Ron Weasley.

Harry remembered the _talk _he'd had with the youngest Weasley boy the night before. After he'd climbed to his dorm, in dire need of rest, he had found the redhead. '_He is angry' _was the first thing that went through Harry's head. His face had been an angry red that almost blended with his hair. Ron had almost shouted, accusing him of being a liar, a horrible friend, and saying how he should've _at least had the decency to tell his best mate how to put his name in the Goblet too._ He hadn't even listened as Harry tried to tell him he hadn't done any of those things, as he ranted about the _Boy-Who-Lived's need to always be in the spotlight. _That had started the shouting. In the end, the redhead had huffed, his face almost purple with rage, and shut his curtains closed. Harry had fell into his bed then, his lips in a thin line and his emerald eyes darkened with anger, enraged at the world and all the people in it that didn't believe him. So saying the two were in bad terms was a massive understatement.

Now, Ron didn't look like his head was about to explode. Only once he realized who he had bumped into did his face begin to redden. He looked from Harry to Hermione, and then he glared at them.

- Watch where you're going! – He snapped as he walked past them.

The two other members of the _Golden Trio_ exchanged glances. Hermione got to her feet and looked at Harry sympathetically. When she was about to say something, he turned his head and started to walk ahead of her. He heard her sigh before she fell into step with him.

*LINEBREAK*

Harry was in his Common Room, sitting on the couch and glaring at parchments and books displayed before him. He groaned as he rubbed his face. The day's classes were over, but it was too much to ask that he wouldn't have to do anything else but pay attention to his classes. _Bloody homework,_ he thought. _Stupid ghost should be exorcised, not "teaching". _He sighed and grabbed his quill again.

He had just started writing his essay when Hermione came through the portrait of the Fat Lady, almost bouncing with excitement, a bright smile on her face. Harry smiled at her. _She looks cute,_ he thought. _No, stop thinking about her like that! _It seemed his friend didn't notice his internal struggle as she rushed to him.

- Harry! I have to show you something!

- I'm doing my History of Magic essay... – He said weakly.

- You can finish it later, come on! – She pulled him up by his hand.

- Who are you, and what have you done with Hermione Granger? – The girl rolled her eyes.

- Honestly, Harry... Just come with me.

She led him past the portrait of the Fat Lady, and through the castle's corridors, occasionally tugging his hand and urging him forward. They entered the library. It was occupied by few students, and was deadly quiet.

- What is it you're so excited about? – Harry whispered, quirking an eyebrow.

In response, she led him behind another aisle and picked a book from the shelf. It read "The History of the Triwizard Tournaments".

- After classes, - she started, whispering – I thought I'd stop by the library and try to find all I could about the tournament. So I came here, to the historical events section, and I found this!

- Okay...

- I think knowing what happened in the past tournaments might help us figure out what kind of challenges you'll be facing.

- That makes sense.

- Of course it makes sense, Harry. – She joked, rolling her eyes.

Harry chuckled and it earned him a glare from the librarian. He stopped and sat with Hermione in a table nearby to look at the book.

*LINEBREAK*

That night, after all the boys in his dorm were asleep, Harry grabbed his Invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map off his trunk and sneaked out of Gryffindor Tower. He checked his map to see no one wandering around the corridors next to him, and he started his search for a secluded and abandoned place in the castle big enough for him to practice. He decided to start in the upper levels, making his way down as he went. Truth be told, even with the Map, Harry wanted to avoid the dungeons and the greasy-haired Potions Master for as long as he could.

After checking the two upper floors, Harry was dead on his feet. He dragged himself through the corridors, his eyelids heavy. He decided to head back to his dormitory for some much-needed rest. He was in the seventh floor, slowly making his way to Gryffindor Tower. _I need a bed_, he thought. _I need a bed, I need a bed, I need a bed._

And suddenly, to his right, a door appeared.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Hello again! I just wanted to thank you for all your suggestions and compliments, I really appreciate it, and it makes me feel like fangirling haha. Well, here's another chapter. :)

** Disclaimer:** I am not JK Rowling so I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. *cries*

**Chapter Three **

Harry stopped in his tracks. He turned abruptly to the new door. _Where did that come from?_ _It wasn't there before, was it? _

He edged closer and tentatively reached out for the door knob. _He wasn't dreaming, was he? _No, he wasn't. The door was solid oak beneath his fingers. He looked around for anybody, a silly confirmation that he really was alone even after using his map, and slowly opened the door.

The room was big. Its ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, just like the one in the Great Hall. There was a four-poster bed, with red and gold sheets, in the middle of the room, just like Harry pictured in his mind. _Wait a second. _He pictured a bedside table with a lamp and in a matter of seconds, it appeared. He jumped and his cloak fell to the floor. _The room conjures what he wishes_! He slowly walked into the room. He touched the sheets on the bed. Silk. _It's real_, he thought. _Bloody hell. I love magic. _

He grabbed his cloak off the floor. He briefly considered spending the night there. The bed looked_ so _comfortable. _But he couldn't_, he reminded himself. He had to get back to the tower, or people might think he was missing or something. He sighed and left the room. He memorized its place, so he could go back there later, and rushed back to Gryffindor Tower. _I have to show Hermione this,_he thought_, It's exactly what I need! _

The Fat Lady looked bewildered as she opened the door to a seemly bodiless voice as it uttered the password. He looked around, but Hermione wasn't there. He didn't really know why he had expected her to be there, seeing how late it was, but he kind of felt disappointed. _Oh, well, I'll just tell her tomorrow, _he thought.

*LINEBREAK*

The sun came out bright and early the next day. It was a Wednesday, and Harry for once woke up with a smile on his face. He checked his watch. Still two hours and a half before classes. Plenty of time to show Hermione the room he found before breakfast. He quickly dressed, picking up his cloak and his map, and made his way downstairs. He knew she'd be awake, she always woke up very early. He found her on the couch, and walked towards her.

"Hermione!"

"What is it, Harry?" She asked, amusement in her voice.

"Come with me!"

And before she knew it, he had grabbed her hand and pulled her up. For a moment, he thought about the feel of her hand on his, but he quickly banished the thought. Her book clattered to the floor, and after checking that the two were alone, Harry pulled her close and draped his invisibility cloak over them. Before he could ponder about how close they were, he lead them out of the Common Room, checking the Marauder's Map every corridor.

"Where are we going?" She whispered.

"You'll see!" He whispered back, excited.

They got to the seventh floor and Harry took her hand in his again. He laced his callused fingers with hers. He started to pace, appearing to be lost in his thoughts. Just as she was about to say something, a door appeared. She gasped and looked up at Harry.

He was looking at her, a wide smile on his face. His emerald eyes were sparkling behind his glasses and his hair was in its usual disarray. His red and gold tie was a bit loose and the top buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned. The map he held in his hand was almost hidden by the long sleeves of his black robes. He put it in the front pocket of his gray pants. He tugged her hand and lead them to the door. He opened it and stepped aside a little, letting go of hand.

"After you, milady." He said with a flourish.

She rolled her eyes but there was a light blush on her cheeks. She walked into the room and gaped. Harry grinned at her, as he came into the room behind her, closing the door.

"Harry..." She breathed in awe "What is this?"

The walls of the room were completely covered with bookshelves filled with books. There were different rows, different sections and some tables in between. It was an exact copy of Hogwarts' library.

"I thought you might like it. I found it last night. It adapts according to your wishes."

"Wow." He chuckled.

"Never thought I'd see Hermione Granger speechless."

"Oh, shut up." Harry laughed. "This is brilliant, Harry. Come on, let's check it out!"

Harry grinned and followed her as she ran to a section to the right.

*LINEBREAK*

Harry Potter mindlessly scribbled in his parchment as he listened to Professor Binns' monologue about yet another goblin rebellion. Hermione was sitting at his side, reading the textbook. _Didn't she already finish that? _He shook his head and dipped his quill in ink once again. He looked around the classroom.

History of Magic was held with the Ravenclaws this year. They stood in the other side of the classroom, some sleeping, other taking notes, but most reading the textbooks like Hermione. Now and then, they would glance at Harry. He was used to it, though.

He had hoped that at least a few of the ravens would support him on this tournament mess. Slytherin had always hated him, so he took the added animosity because of his champion status with a stride. The Hufflepuffs were suddenly acting cold towards him. He understood their reasons, but he hadn't wanted to take attention away from Cedric, like they claimed. He had the Gryffindors' support, at least. Well, most of them. He sighed and looked to his right, his eyes finding Ron sitting as far away from him as possible.

"Harry!" He heard a whisper from his other side.

Hermione glanced at where he was looking at before, and gave him a sad smile. Then she turned to look at him again.

"What is it, Mione?" He asked her.

She looked around, but no one was paying attention to them.

"Harry, I think you should write to Sirius about the tournament, and you becoming champion. It's probably going to be in the Prophet anyway, and he'll want to hear it from you. You've put it off since your name came out."

Harry considered his friend's statement. He had to admit she was right, even if he didn't like it. Sirius would want to know about this. But he didn't want to worry his godfather. Harry groaned as he thought about the man who escaped Azkaban. He had written to Sirius on the train, telling him about a pain in his scar he had during the summer. He hadn't told him about the dream, or the people in it. The man had answered him a day before Halloween, telling him he was coming back north and to warn Dumbledore if he ever felt pain in his scar again. Harry had felt very bad. _Sirius was coming back, risking getting himself caught, because Harry couldn't shut up about a pain he had? He couldn't let him do that! _But the man was resolute. He had hidden, and advised Harry to use another owl when he wrote to him again, as Hedwig would stand out too much. _If he told him about the tournament, who knew what the man would do? No, Harry couldn't worry him like that. _But everything would be on the newspapers anyway, and the man would just write to him after he found out. Harry sighed. He would have to write to Sirius.

**A.N: I don't really know who the Gryffindor have History of Magic with, so let's just pretend it's with the ravens, okay? If you do know, please tell me ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I wish I owned Harry Potter, but I don't.

**Chapter 4 **

_Dear Sirius, _

_You asked me to let you know if anything happened, so here it goes. I don't know if you heard, but there's going to be a Triwizard Tournament in Hogwarts this year and on Halloween night the champions got selected. And, somehow, my name came out of the Goblet of Fire, even when I didn't put my name on it, or asked someone to put it there for me. I don't know who did it. They told me I'm supposed to compete as the fourth champion. The other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff. Hermione thinks I should train and prepare, and I agree with her. We're still working on 'how', though. I hope you and Buckbeak are ok. _

_Harry _

Harry put his quill down on the table and checked what he just wrote. _It will do_. He looked around the Gryffindor common room. The circular room was, as always, painted in red and gold. The couches facing the fireplace and the tables surrounding the room were occupied by few people. Hermione was sitting across from him on their usual table, reading the book she found on the library. Harry was glad that this book and the tournament were taking her mind out of her house elf project. Really, he didn't know how he could convince her to drop it. He grabbed his letter and stood up.

"I'm going to the owlery" He told Hermione.

"I'll go with you."

They walked quietly through the gray castle walls. They arrived in the owlery and Hedwig swooped down and landed on Harry's shoulder, putting out her leg. He reached up to pet her.

"I'm sorry, but Sirius said you can't deliver this one, Hedwig."

The snowy owl let out an indignant, angry hoot. Harry could feel her sharp claws on his shoulder. Hedwig clicked her beak.

"I know, I know. I'm sure you are more than capable of doing it yourself, I don't doubt your abilities. But I'm gonna have to use a school owl for this one, okay?"

Hedwig hooted again, and bit down on his finger hard enough to draw blood.

"Ow! Hedwig! It's not my fault! I said I was sorry!" The owl hooted again as he shook his hand. He glared at the bird.

"Harry." He heard Hermione from his side. She lifted an eyebrow and he sighed.

He walked toward a brown school owl sitting on the windowsill. Hedwig took off from his shoulder and went to her usual perch. He attached his letter to the school owl and watched as it flew out into the sunset. He looked over at Hedwig but the owl turned its back to him.

"Come on, Harry" Hermione said.

He sighed and walked out of the owlery, trailing after Hermione.

*LINEBREAK*

Harry glared at Malfoy as the blond menace and his oversized companions mocked him.

"Hey, Potter!" Draco sneered "How long do you think you'll last? My bet is less than five minutes!" He and his cronies laughed. Before Harry had a chance to retort, Hagrid's booming voice was heard throughout the clearing.

"Alright!" The half giant said "Today, we're going to keep working on those Blast-Ended Skrewts! They've been getting restless, they have, so you all are going to pick up a leash and take them around for a little walk."

"Take this _thing_ for a walk?" Malfoy asked, disgusted "How, exactly?"

"You put the leash in the middle" Hagrid answered, demonstrating "You might want to put on your dragonhide gloves. Harry, come help me with this one."

Harry did, only to learn that the half giant's intention had been to talk to him about the tournament. He could see the anxiety in Hagrid's beetle black eyes and he was relieved to find his friend believed that he did not put his name in the goblet, like Dumbledore. Hagrid then looked up at something in the distance.

"Who's that?"

Harry turned to look at the direction he was pointing and he saw Colin Creevey running towards them. The boy stopped a few feet away from them to catch his breath, oblivious to the curious stares from the class. He looked up at Hagrid.

"Professor!" The boy said, glancing at Harry "They asked me to bring Harry Potter to the castle. All the champions have to go."

The half giant looked down at the boy, then back at Harry.

"Oh. Okay, then. Better be on your way Harry"

Harry picked up his backpack and followed the boy back to the castle. It was too much to ask that the track be made in silence, it seemed, as the boy launched into excited chatter as soon as the two walked out of the class' hearing range.

"This is so exciting! Fantastic, isn't it Harry? Being a Champion?"

"Oh yeah. Absolutely." Harry answered sarcastically. The boy didn't seem to notice. "Why are they calling me, Colin?"

"I think it's something for the Daily Prophet!"

"Great. Absolutely fantastic. Just what I needed." Harry said, emotionless.

They arrived in front of a door and Colin wished him good luck. Harry took a deep breath. He knocked on the door and walked in.

It was a classroom, he noticed. Small, with the most part of the desks and chairs pushed to the end of the room. There were a few desks pushed together in the middle of the room, covered with a towel. Behind them, sat five chairs that Harry assumed was for the judges and Headmasters. When he entered, the occupants of the room turned to look at him.

The other champions were already there, along with the headmasters and judges. Bagman was talking to a woman he didn't recognize in the corner. When she looked at him, Harry felt apprehension at the predatory gleam he could see in her eyes, but he didn't let it show. Bagman saw him and rushed to his side.

"Harry!" The man exclaimed, as if they were longtime friends "Come in! You don't have to worry, it's just the Weighting of the Wands ceremony."

Harry nodded. Hermione had told him about it this morning. Apparently, in every tournament before the tasks, the champions' wands were tested, to see if they were in perfect condition to compete, as the wands were their most important instruments in the tasks. They called in a specialist, usually a wandmaker from the host's country, to evaluate the wands. Harry silently thanked his friend, as her warning had given him the time to clean the fingerprints in his wand during lunch. It now looked almost as good as new.

"The specialist is upstairs with Dumbledore. And after the ceremony there will be a small photo shoot." Bagman continued, pointing to a fat man with a large camera Harry hadn't seen before. Then he pointed at the blond woman with the unsettling eyes. "And that is Rita Skeeter. She's a reporter for the Daily Prophet and she's writing an article about the tournament, you see."

"Yes, yes." The woman said, her eyes on Harry. "About that article, I'd like to have a word with little Harry first before we start? The youngest champion and all..."

"Of course!" Bagman answered "That is, if Harry doesn't have a problem with it?" The man looked back at Harry.

Harry looked from the man to the reporter. She had that weird gleam in her eyes, and though he'd never admit it, Harry was kind of scared of that look. It was the same look his Aunt Petunia had in her eyes when she was thinking of a punishment for him, and he knew it meant no good. He gulped and cleared his throat.

"Actually, I think it would be better if I stayed here and waited with the other champions for Professor Dumbledore and the specialist." He said "They should be arriving soon, and I don't want to delay the ceremony."

And just as he finished talking, the door opened to show the Headmaster and a man Harry recognized as Mr. Olivanders walking into the room. Skeeter had a very put out look, but she said nothing. Harry almost sighed in relief.

"Shall we start?" Professor Dumbledore stated, clapping his hands. He gestured to the wandmaker. "I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Olivanders. He will be checking your wands."

The occupants nodded in acknowledgement and Dumbledore took his seat at the judges' table with the other headmasters. The French Champion, Fleur Delacour, went first. She walked towards the wandmaker and presented him with her wand. She was followed by Cedric, and then Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang Champion. Then it was Harry's turn. Olivanders took much more time examining his wand than the others, but, at last, he deemed it perfectly fit, just like the other champions'. Dumbledore stood.

"Thank you all. You can make your way to the Great Hall for the feast, as your classes are about to end."

"Wait, Dumbledore!" The fat man with the camera said. "Pictures, we have to take pictures! All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Right. Let's do those first, then maybe individual shots." She answered, glancing again at Harry. That gleam was back in her eyes. She still looked put out, and maybe a bit angered, for not getting her private interview. But Harry was very glad she didn't get her wish.

The photo shoot seemed to go on forever. It was a hassle, with the photographer and Rita trying to fit everyone into the picture. When the woman made a move to grab him and take him in front of everybody, Harry pulled his arm away from her grasp.

"Mrs Skeeter." He said as he glared at her.

"Miss" She interrupted.

"Ms Skeeter." Harry continued. He was in a bad mood, having had to put up with all the others' animosity for being a Champion and Fleur's not-so-quiet 'little boy' comments as she glanced at him with disdain the entire ceremony. He didn't want to deal with Skeeter's pestering and unkindly interest in him. He was about to snap at her, but he thought against it. Instead, he tried his best Snape imitation as he glared and coldly said "I do not appreciate you _grabbing_ me. Surely, you are aware that this is harassment and I could file charges against you and send you to Azkaban?"

That made her pale and quickly back track. Harry almost smiled. He didn't know how he pulled it off or even if he could press charges, but it worked and he was very glad, and very proud of himself, for doing it. The photographer then took individual pictures and afterwards they were finally allowed to leave. Harry almost ran out of the room.

He walked down for supper and sat with Hermione at the end of the Gryffindor table, close to the doors. He told her everything that happened in the Weighting of the Wands ceremony and he felt better when she congratulated him on the way he handled the reporter. She started telling him what he missed when he walked out with Colin and he couldn't help but laugh when she told him one of the Blast-Ended Skrewts had its tail blowed up on Malfoy's face. He felt some of his nerves and anxiety abate as his friend recounted her day and he smiled. He regarded her for a moment and as she talked he came to a conclusion. With Hermione's help, he would be able to do this. He was sure of it.

**A.N: Hello again. Hope you all had a merry christmas ;) I can't write Hagrid's way of speaking, just like I can't write accents, so you'll have to imagine those in your head. Anyway, I have very cool plans for this story. Well, at least I think they're cool. So stay tuned! Next week, new chapter! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N: **Oh my god, I'm SO sorry for not updating last Saturday! Please forgive me for the delay, and I can't promise anything but I'll try not to let it happen again. I think this next week my family is going on a trip though, so I will most likely not be able to update again on Saturday, but I'll try my best. Anyway, you're here to read the history and not my rambling, so here we go!

**Disclaimer**: Believe me, I'll let you know if I ever own Harry Potter.

**Chapter 5 **

Twenty days. That's how much time Harry had before the first task. Twenty days for him to, somehow, train and learn to survive whatever it was that awaited him on the 24th of November. _I better get started today_, he thought. It was a Friday, and that meant after the afternoon classes Harry would have a night and an entire weekend before his classes started again. It was a Hogsmead weekend though, and Harry really wanted to get out of the castle and away from the stares and accusations. It will probably be even worse at breakfast, when the owls arrive with the Daily Prophet. He was extremely anxious about what that Skeeter woman might have written, even if Hermione had assured him the only thing she could write about him was his status as a Champion and what happened in the Weighting of the Wands ceremony. He was once again thankful he had managed to avoid the private interview. He was certain the woman would have fabricated lies about him and written things he never said. You could just look at her face, and that gleam in her eyes, and tell she was a gossip who does anything to create a scandal. The thought made him shiver.

He was so lost in thought he didn't see the person in front of him as he climbed down the stairs for breakfast, dressed and ready for the day. He walked right into the figure. Thankfully, the person managed to grip a railing and stop himself from falling down and Harry did the same. The figure turned and Harry saw it was Neville.

"I- I'm sorry Neville, I didn't see where I was going."

"It's okay, Harry. No need to apologize." He gave Harry a small, shy smile. "What about you, you haven't been talking to Ron, or anyone other than Hermione for that matter. And you seem quieter than usual ever since Halloween. Are you okay?"

Harry looked up in surprise. Was he okay? No. He was tired from the almost sleepless nights and the accusations, frustrated and angry with his situation and the fact he could do nothing to get out of it, scared of what's in store for him, insecure about his own abilities... But he would never tell anyone that.

"I'm fine, Neville" He smiled.

The brown headed boy nodded, even if he still looked suspicious. Harry chatted with him as they resumed climbing down the stairs. Harry did most of the talking, while Neville was quiet and often answered questions with short answers, giving him small smiles. Neville looked way better than the last time Harry talked to him, after Moody's class about the Unforgivables. He had been shaken and pale, staring unseenly ahead. Harry didn't hold it against him. He had been shaken too, seeing the grumpy new professor do the curses in class and in the case of the Imperious curse, on the students. He could still see the spider the professor used as a victim in his mind, squirming and screeching as Moody held the torture curse. Then he remembered the way it stilled and went limp as the professor cast the killing curse. Moody had turned to him then, both his eyes focused on him as he said Harry had been the only person known to survive the killing curse. Harry had noticed a strange tick the professor had then, to stick out his tongue like a snake. The man was certainly as mad as the stories everyone told.

The two boys met Hermione in the common room and headed down to the Great Hall. They sat together at the Gryffindor table, with Neville at Harry's side and Hermione across from them. Harry listened as Neville quietly talked about his difficulty with the Summoning charms and other spells and classes. And before he knew what he was doing, he blurted out that he'd be glad to help him out if he could.

"Really? You'd do that?" Neville asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah, I mean, I'm training for the tournament and I have to practice spells and what not. We could review all the spells we've learned this year, and maybe the years before. I think it will help me with the tasks. And after that, we could try new spells. Hermione could find us the textbooks from the first four years in the library, and maybe the one for fifth year too." Harry said. He turned to Hermione. "Right?"

His best friend stared at him with wide eyes before she blinked a few times and recovered from her surprise. "Yeah... Yeah, I could do that. It's a great idea."

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Harry asked her, frowning.

"Oh, shut up!" And the three laughed.

*LINEBREAK*

When the three left the Great Hall, they didn't even notice the owls arriving through the Windows and they walked together to the Charms classroom. They discussed the time they'd meet for the training. For Harry, and for Neville too it seemed, the classes lasted forever. When they finally ended, Harry decided he'd show Neville the room he'd found before supper while Hermione went to the library, promising to find the textbooks they'd need. They stopped by their dorm so Harry could get his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map, and Harry smiled wide at the awe on Neville's face as he explained what the items were before they headed to the seventh floor. He instructed Neville on how to get the room to appear and watched as his friend gaped at the new room. They walked inside, and Neville asked questions about how the room worked as they looked at their surroundings.

This time, Harry had thought of a room where they could practice in. It was big and wide, just a bit smaller than the Great Hall. It was divided in three different sections. One, the biggest, looked like an obstacle course. There were different targets set up at different heights and distances, and training dummies that sprung up from behind colunes and walls. Another had a long platform, just like the one in second year that Lockheart had used for his 'Dueling class' and the last, the smallest, had a table and a bookshelf where they could put their bags and the textbooks they'd be using.

Harry answered Neville's questions as best he could before they had to leave for dinner, stopping to drop their things in the dormitory. They were chatting on the way down when Neville asked how Harry thought his name had gotten into the Goblet of Fire. Harry stopped and looked up at Neville in surprise.

"You... You believe me? That I didn't put my name in the goblet?"

"Well, yeah... I mean, you've never lied to me before and if you're telling me you didn't put your name there then, yeah, I believe you" Neville shrugged. "Besides, I could see how surprised you were when Dumbledore called your name. You'd have had to be an idiot not to see it." He smiled at Harry.

He almost hugged Neville for that, but he settled for returning his smile with a wide one of his own. Truth be told, he had forgotten to ask the brown-haired boy about it, and the boy hadn't brought it up. He thanked Neville profusely, but the boy told him there was no reason to thank him as he hadn't done anything and he lowered his head, looking away, reverting to the shy Gryffindor everyone made him out to be. But Harry had seen the other side of Neville as the boy excitedly talked about his plants and the Herbology book he had gotten from the new professor, and he was determined to make that side of his friend appear again. _One more mission on my list_, he thought. _Here we go_.


End file.
